Where our Story Starts
by wayward-angels
Summary: The story of how Lupin and Tonks met, as well as their first assignment together. This may be a little AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, everyone! So, this is my first Harry Potter fanfiction so please be kind. I've always liked the thought of Lupin/Tonks so I wrote a little story about how they first met. It's defiantly not canon, maybe even a little AU. Please read and review!**

A lone figure slumped down Grimmauld Place, shoulders hunched against the harsh London winter. Closer inspection would reveal a young man in a tattered brown coat and darned scarf slowly making his way along the snowy pavement. The street was nearly empty at this time of night, but rows of lighted windows cast butter-yellow rectangles onto the fresh snowfall. Dinnertime chatter and the distant clanking of pots and pans could be heard from the street, and the familiar noises made Remus Lupin a little sad. It had been a long time since he had had a family to go home to, not since he was a young boy. The sensation of belonging to a close-knit family was one that he missed. Lupin supposed that this was why he had joined the Order-not only out of loyalty, but also out of loneliness.

When Lupin saw the old terrace house expanding slowly from the units on each side, he felt a sense of relief. 12 Grimmauld Place was about as close to a home as he was ever going to get, and the Order about as close to a family.

Lupin was welcomed into the drafty headquarters by an enthusiastic Sirius Black. His old schoolmate was currently wooing a pretty young Auror named Zelda. Sirius apparently felt confident that Zelda was returning the affection because she had been showing herself around the Order quite frequently.

"Excited for your new assignment, Moony?" Sirius queried, giving his friend nudge to the ribs. Lupin didn't respond. His latest assignment, a direct order from Dumbledore himself, was to do a check-up on a man who claimed to be a 'former' Death Eater. Of course, as every Order member knew, Death Eaters rarely changed their ways. As Molly Weasly would say, poisonous toadstools don't change their spots. The assignment promised to be dull and lonesome, as it was almost Christmas and Lupin would be spending the holiday alone. He wasn't complaining-he never complained, no matter how pitiful his condition-but there was something sad about spending the Yuletide alone.

"I wouldn't say _excited_…" Lupin trailed off when he saw the girl sitting at the kitchen table. She was young and strikingly beautiful, with long red hair and stunningly green eyes. Maybe a Weasly relative that he'd never heard of? She looked far too young to be a member of the Order, he had seen Hogwarts students that looked older than her.

"My cousin," said Sirius. "Nymphadora."

Lupin almost choked. Sure, Sirius was a good-looking guy, but surely not enough to garner a relative this beautiful. Also, she hardly seemed like the rest of Sirius' noble family: haughty, aloof and borderline cruel.

The girl rolled her bottle-green eyes towards the high ceiling.

"Call me Tonks. Everyone does."

There was a loud _crack _and a purple-robed Dumbledore appeared in the kitchen corner. He adjusted a pair of half-moon spectacles and gave Lupin a serene smile.

"Ah," Dumbledore bowed to Tonks. "I see you've met your new partner."

Lupin's eyebrows shot towards the ceiling.

"My _what_?"

Sirius was smirking like the cat that ate the canary. Dumbledore brushed off his velvet robes, a deep purple set embroidered with tiny moons and stars, and took a seat at the kitchen table.

"Your new partner, of course. For the assignment in Yorkshire. Young Tonks here has just become a qualified Auror, and she could use some insight as to how the job is done."

"But-but I'm not even an Auror-" Lupind stammered. Dumbledore was raising his eyebrows and Sirius had begun to chuckle. Tonks was tipping back in her chair, Doc Martens resting on the table and hands behind her head. Despite the obvious differences in appearance, Lupin was reminded strongly of Sirius.

"Well, I hope that I can be of a help to you," he said politely to Nymphadora or Tonks or whatever her name was.

He wasn't going to lie, the girl was very pretty. Beautiful, even, for such a young age. But that key word was _young_. Lupin reminded himself that he was just a poor young man who was soon going to be a poor old man. He made himself a little promise that he would not attempt to woo Sirius' cousin. Looking back on it, he had broken that promise before he had even made it.

…

They set out at dawn from Grimmauld Place, two figures heading out into the cool blue dawn. Tonks was practically bouncing with excitement, surely thrilled for her first assignment in the Order. Lupin, however, was wary. He kept glancing over his shoulder, well aware that he was now responsible for two lives instead of one. He didn't doubt Tonks' abilities, but she was young and inexperienced in the Dark Arts. Then again, most people were these days. They assumed that Voldemort was dead, that the danger had passed. It saddened Lupin to know that so many people were living in oblivion. They were as clueless as Muggles.

Arthur Weasly had set up a port key in an old police call box a few miles from Grimmauld Place, on a quiet London side street. Tonks tripped going into the box and Lupin caught her arm. It was quite cramped inside the little box, and they grasped the telephone as it glowed white. Tonks and Lupin hurtled through space and landed in on a high fell side in Yorkshire, England. The snow was easily ten feet deep here, thick white powder that was being flung in every direction by the howling wind. The police callbox was already being coated in white. Tonks was shivering in a thin leather jacket, an impractical clothing choice for this harsh climate.

"Cold, eh?" She asked cheerfully as the pair waded through the deep drifts. Lupin wished that they had thought to bring snowshoes or skies.

A tiny hamlet lay nestled between the white bosoms of the two high fells, a cluster of dark houses with lighted windows. The sharp steeple of a church jutted towards the white sky, and Lupin and Tonks headed for the town of Fellshire.

It was dark outside when they reached the cobbled main street, and the lit windows of shops and homes cast pretty golden squares onto the snow along the pavement. There was an inn at the end of the street, and the two Order members knocked on the door. Tonks bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet.

"It's like the Christmas story," she said. "You know, Mary and Joseph and no room at the inn."

_At least you're not pregnant, _Lupin thought to himself. He glanced at Tonks, trying to imagine her pregnant. He couldn't.

The door creaked open, revealing a stout woman with a neat hair bun. She waved them through the door, exclaimed over the chill outside.

"We're visitors from the Ministry," said Lupin. "Have you got any empty rooms?"

The innkeeper pulled the curtains closed and bolted the door.

"Yes, one," she said in a thick Yorkshire accent. "Up the stairs and to the left. It'll be ten pounds."

Lupin and Tonks both scrounged for Muggle money. Tonks accidently tipped a dozen Sickles onto the wooden table, which the innkeeper examined with great confusion.

"I've never seen these before," she puzzled, holding a gleaming coin up to the light. Tonks hastily scooped the remaining money into her purse.

"We're with the Department of Foreign Affairs," Lupin said, hoping this would excuse the strange currency. "Just got back from Morocco."

The innkeeper raised her eyebrows, perhaps doubting the story, but made no further comment. Lupin was relieved. Her hated performing memory-altering charms on Muggles. It made him feel almost guilty, something that Sirius and James had never experienced problems with. Then again, Lupin had always been the quiet, studious member of the Marauders. The other boys-save for Pettigrew, the sniveling toerag-had always been the heroes.

…

The innkeeper had likely assumed that Lupin and Tonks were a couple, despite their obvious age difference, because the room they had paid for had only one bed. Tonks seemed unbothered by this fact, as she layed her coat over one side of the bed and started rooting around in a small beaded purse, humming quietly. Lupin removed his overcoat and hung it on the back of the door, then slowly took off his boots and lined them up beneath the bed skirt. Tonks pulled a baggy shirt from the purse, which was defiantly not large enough to hold the article of clothing.

_Expansion charm, _thought Lupin. _Clever. _

Tonks was still humming as she ducked into the tiny washroom and shut the door. Lupin slumped onto the edge of the bed, still deciding how to go about talking to Arty Monroe. The man had never been one of Voldemort's closet supporters, but he had been dangerous. Arty had worked at the Ministry for a several years, and while he hadn't been Department of Mysteries level, he could certainly pass privileged information to Voldemort. You didn't have to work in a certain department to overhear a lot of dirty little secrets. In Lupin's opinion, water-cooler gossip was sometimes more informative than official memos.

Several minutes passed. Wind howled outside the double-paned window, driving flurries of snow past. In the church down the road, people were singing God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen. Lupin found himself humming along with Sirius' God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs in mind.

Tonks reappeared from the washroom wearing a baggy Weird Sisters tee-shirt and a pair of polka-dot thigh-high socks. She did a little spin and then slipped and tumbled onto the bed. The glow of the gas lamp in the corner made the room seem warm and cozy despite the chilly temperature.

"So," Tonks said, leaning back against the headboard and drawing her knees up to her chest. "You're a werewolf, aren't you?"

Lupin pressed his lips together.

"Yes." He had grown used to the nervous stares, the wary glances, that accompanied people finding out about his unfortunate condition.

A worried look appeared on her face and her teeth grated her lower lip.

"You're not going to, like, transform and attack me, right?"

Lupin sighed.

"No, I can assure that I am not vicious. Also, it's a half moon."

Tonks' face split into an easy grin.

"I know. I was just kidding."

Lupin forced out a laugh for her sake, relieved that she didn't fear him. Lupin had grown up knowing that he was a monster, and though Sirius and James had assured him that he was 'normal' even though he knew that he was not.

There was a faint _pop! _and Lupin glanced over. Tonks was now sporting bright pink hair that fell to her shoulders. Lupin raised his eyebrows.

"You're a metamorphmagus."

She nodded and curled onto her side.

"The metamorphmagus and the werewolf…" she said sleepily. "It sounds the beginning of a bad joke."

Maybe not the beginning of a bad joke, Lupin mused, but it was the beginning of something.

**Well, I hope that everyone enjoyed this first chapter. Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks so much to iambannanas for the review. Hope you like this chapter!

Remus Lupin's first conscious thought was that he was in a strange bed, in a strange room, with a strange someone lying next to him. Yesterday's events flooded back, quickly solving the small mysteries. His second thought was that Nymphadora Tonks was sprawled over half the bed with her head on Lupin's chest and her arm curled around his waist.

"Nyphadora-er, Tonks." He whispered, sure that she would want him to wake her up. "It's time to get up now."

Tonks muttered something in her sleep and flipped over, burying her face in Lupin's shirtfront. He carefully extracted himself from her grindylow-like grasp and slid out of bed. Tonks started hugging the pillow instead of him. As he put on his boots, Lupin decided that it would be best if he never mentioned the incident.

…

Arty Monroe was a man with something to hide, a man with secrets. He had taken these many secrets out to the countryside, built a humble house on the high fells with a sagging roof and a pigsty out front. Arty Monroe had left a wife and two children behind in London, which was not something that a man without secrets did.

Lupin kept this in mind as he rapped on the door. Tonks was hovering behind him, waiting with bated breath. Her hair was a more conservative brown today, trimmed bluntly to her chin.

The door creaked slowly open a few inches, revealing a man gone mad with a plague of secrets. His hair was long and lank, hanging like a greasy curtain around his haggard face. His eyes were mad, the whites of them yellowed by years of firewhisky and lonliness. He wore a filthy smock, stained with the remnants of past meals.

"What the hell do you want?" He rasped. Lupin attempted to peer inside the dank interior of the house, making sure there were no surprises lurking there. He could see nothing.

"We're from Welfare, Mr. Monroe." Tonks piped up from behind him. "May we come in?"

Lupin was beginning to appreciate Tonks' sharp wit and quick thinking. Arty held the door open a few more inches, allowing the two Order members inside. The first thing that Lupin noticed was the stench. Something reeked of dead animals and blood. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, they also widened with shock. The place was filled with the carcasses of dead animals, some half-rotting and others quite fresh in appearance. Legs of beef and dead chickens dangled from the low rafters, and several other unidentifiable bodies were scattered on the floor. Behind him, Tonks stifled a gasp.

"So?" Lupin looked up to see Arty wielding a large butcher knife and staring at them through unusually bright eyes. "Do I get the money, eh?"

"Uh," Tonks stammered. "I don't know, sir. Your living conditions are quite, um, unclean and-"

"You're not from the government, are you?"

Arty Monroe was a world class liar, and he would catch any tall tale straight off.

"No, Arthur," said Lupin softly. "We're not from the government."

And then, faster than you could say 'hippogriff', Arty Monroe was plunging his hands into his filthy smock, screaming,

"CRUCIO!"

Blinding light flashed across the room and Remus Lupin dropped to the floor, writhing in silent agony. He had endured a lot of pain, been tortured a time or two before, but every time this curse hit him it felt worse than ever before. The pain was so bad that he couldn't even scream.

And then somewhere, through the agony, he heard Tonks shriek something above the din of Arty's made laughter. The pain stopped suddenly, and everything went blinding white.

"Lupin?" Tonks was gently prodding his shoulder. "Remus, are you alright?"

Lupin groaned and pushed himself from the floor. The stench of blood hung thickly in the air, coating the carcasses and everything that moved inside the house. Then he noticed the limp from of Arty Monroe lying on the filthy floor between a pig and a rotting sheep. He also noticed the tears shimmering in Tonks' eyes.

"He's dead," she murmured. "I killed him."

Lupin felt the heavy weight of guilt settle across them both. Tonks was staring straight ahead, amber gaze locked onto the pallid corpse. Lupin strode across the bloody floor and slowly drew back the dead man's sleeve. A faint scar was etched there, a skull with a snake pouring from the mouth.

"The dark mark," said Lupin. "He was a Death Eater."

Tonks swallowed hard and blinked rapidly.

"He might have been reformed. A lot of people have come across to the good side now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone…" She sounded desperate for this madman to have had a grain of good in him, and the yearning light in her eye made Lupin wonder how someone so cheerful, someone who strived to see the good in everyone, had made it this far as an Auror.

_I suppose not everyone can be a jumpy, sly old bastard like Madeye, _he thought.

"We should at least bring his body back," Tonks said. "We owe him that much…"

"No," Lupin said. "No one can know that we've been here."

Tonks shifted forwards, and he saw tears sparkling in her eyes. She was obviously fighting the urge to cry, clenching her fists tightly at her sides.

"Fine then," she snapped. "We'll leave him here to rot with the animals."

And with that she stormed outside. Lupin strode after her, out into the gently falling snow. After the reek of blood and filth, the crisp winter air was refreshing, though icy. Tonks was standing by a low hedgerow, hands stuffed in her pockets. Her hair had turned a sort of blueish-black that stood out like a raven against the clear snow. Lupin laid his hand on her shoulder and realized that she was shaking.

"Tonks…"

"Let's just go," she snapped. And she turned away from his grip and stomped away though the snowy yard. Lupin followed her up the white track that climbed high onto the gentle curve of the fell. Tonks was striding towards the phone booth, whose blue top was just visible over the heaps of pure snow.

"It's buried," she said quietly. "We'll have to apparate back."

Lupin desperately wanted to say something, to reassure her, but he couldn't think of a single word that would make the situation any better. Besides, she appeared seethingly angry right now, and Lupin had been warned by Sirius that provoking an angry Tonks was like poking a sleeping hippogriff in the eye.

"Let's just get back to London, eh?" Lupin suggested. Tonks squeezed her eyes shut and with a loud crack, disappeared. Lupin stood there for a moment on the deserted fellside. A bird's shrill cry pierced the silence, followed a moment later by a loud crack as Remus Lupin dissolved into thin air. Beneath the high fells, the village slept on.

…

Tonks' mood had morphed from anger into a deep depression by the time she and Lupin found themselves thawing out in front of the roaring fire. Despite the leaping flames, Tonks had not ceased shivering.

"There's no spell to bring back the dead, you know?" Lupin said quietly. Tonks looked greif-stricken, her eyes were probing the yellow flames as if she would find answers there.

"He had a family, friends. They'll never know what happened to him." Her pale hands tumbled over each other like mice on a wheel. "I know what it's like, not knowing."

There was a moment of awkward silence, broken by Sirius leaping down the stairs and landing at the bottom with a grin on his face.

"You guys are just _sitting _there? It's Christmas! C'mon, we're going to a party!"

"Not tonight, Sirius," Lupin told him quietly. Sirius glanced at Tonks, gave a light grimace and crossed the room to a lay a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, little cuz."

Tonks bowed her head, gaze fixed on the ancient floral rug as if she were attempting to memorize the patterns there.

"Thanks, Sirius."

"Oh, and Remus-there's fire whiskey in kitchen cupboard above the sink."

And then Sirius was banging through the door, already belting out some cheesy Christmas carol that Lupin had heard being shrilled out by Celestina Warbeck earlier on the radio.

"It'll be alright, Tonks." Lupin took her hand, hoping that she might derive some comfort from human contact. Tonks' fingers curled around his, and something like fire spread through his body.

"I know, Remus," she whispered. "I know."

Several hours later, the fire was dying and Tonks seemed to be attempting to drown her remorse in firewhiskey. She was already working her way through Sirius' secret stash of the strong liquor when Lupin attempted to pry the bottle from her hand.

"Too bad we had to leave the box there," Tonks giggled, clinging to the glass bottle. "Maybe they'll think the Doctor came to visit."

"Who's the doctor?" Lupin wanted to know, trying to pry Tonks' fingers away from her precious drink. Her grip was iron-strong.

_Maybe that's why she's such a good Auror. Maybe she clings to people or something. _But Lupin knew that Nymphadora Tonks was a good Auror because she was brave and tenacious and loyal, and all of those were traits that Alastor Moody admired both in himself and his pupils.

"You know, _The Doctor! _From Doctor Who! Honestly, Remus."

She had started calling him Remus now, and whether it was the drink talking or not, Lupin wasn't complaining.

Tonks clung to his arm, grinning. Suddenly she sobered and gripped his arm in earnest.

"A good man goes to war, Remus," she informed him seriously.

Lupin sighed and watched the dying embers gleam in the darkened parlor.

"Doesn't he always, Nymphadora?"

**Well, I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter. Sorry for the nerdy Doctor Who reference in the end. Just couldn't help it. Please leave a review telling me what you think of it. Thanks and have a good week!**


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